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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23297236">maybe forever</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhys_xx/pseuds/rhys_xx'>rhys_xx</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>8th year AU, Deamus, Drarry, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch Locker Rooms, M/M, Original Character(s), Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Quidditch, Quidditch tryouts, Sharing a dormitory, Slow Burn, linny - Freeform, romione</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 03:41:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,497</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23297236</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhys_xx/pseuds/rhys_xx</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Harry comes to Hogwarts for his eighth year, he's resigned to the fact that Ron would rather kiss Hermione in some corner than hang out with him. What he's not expecting is the onslaught of changes that face him once he arrives at Hogwarts. Like, the fact that Draco Malfoy looks like a completely different person, and, coincidentally, is his new roommate. And, for some reason, Harry doesn't seem to hate Malfoy as much as he used to.<br/>But that doesn't mean anything.<br/>Right?<br/>Right?!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Original Male Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. welcome back</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hey everyone! hope you enjoy this fic :) if you have any questions, requests, comments, etc, you can email me at ambrosia.and.roses@gmail.com</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry’s sneaker crunched the tiny pebbles on the pavement as he stepped off of the Hogwarts Express, Ron’s arm around his shoulders.</p><p>“It’s going to be a good year, mate. No more… undying evil wizards to chase after. I hope,” Ron laughs, slinging his bag over his head. </p><p>Harry nodded, his mind elsewhere. This year would be… strange, to say the least. The summer hadn’t been easy for him, and the solemn halls of the Burrow hadn’t helped his mood. His heart ached thinking about it, about all of the Weasleys and him gathered in a field, Fred’s golden coffin lowering into the chilly earth. Mrs. Weasley had spent most of the summer crying, not that anyone could blame her. </p><p>George had seemed dead on his feet, staring through anyone that tried to speak to him. Bill had taken the part of the summer off from work, bringing over home-cooked meals from Fleur every other day. Mr. Weasley had thrown himself back into work, spending ridiculous hours at the Ministry to help cover up the disturbances Voldemort had left in his wake. Most days, Harry never saw Mr. Weasley, as he left for work at the crack of dawn and often didn’t return until after midnight. </p><p>Ginny had been spending most of her time with Charlie, looking at old photos and helping around the house, Charlie attempting to crack jokes and lighten the mood. Ginny had had an awkward talk with Harry about how she was into girls, and, strangely, he couldn't have cared less. They’d been drifting apart anyway.<br/>
Luna had come to stay with them while her father was in Turkey, searching for Turkish Wilgers or something like that. Harry had gone into Ginny’s room to ask if she had any spare parchment, as everyone else was out, and had made the mistake of not knocking. Ginny’s head had snapped up from between Luna’s legs, and Harry had shouted and covered his eyes with one hand, awkwardly apologizing and quickly rushing out of the room.</p><p>Hermione had stayed with them as well, staying at Ron’s side and gingerly wiping away stray tears from his cheeks. Now, her hand was tucked into Ron’s, her overstuffed backpack ready to burst. </p><p>Harry took a deep breath and bunched his robes up in his fists, his shoulders stiffening.  He looked up and cried out as he saw a large figure looming over him, a dark coat enveloping him in a comforting hug. Harry sighed, going limp and closing his eyes. It was Hagrid. </p><p>“Oy, it’s Harry. How have ya been? Life treatin’ ya good? ‘Ello, Ron, Hermione.” He grinned, releasing Harry from his embrace and hooking Ron and Hermione into a crushing hug. Harry let out a shaky breath and tried to hide his watery eyes. He crunched pebbles under the tip of his shoe and tried to ignore the tightness in his chest. </p><p>“Oy, Harry, Ron, Hermione, it was great ta see ya all. I’d love ta talk, but I got to direct tha firs’ years. Come see me tomorrow for tea, and I’ll see ya all at the feast, yeh?” </p><p>Harry nodded, forcing a grin. Hagrid beamed and walked away towards the cluster of first-years gathered under a tree, whistling as he walked. </p><p>A light touch brushed his shoulder and his breath caught, Hermione’s worried face peeking in from the side, and she spoke tentatively, as if afraid of angering him. “Harry, are you alright?. Do you want to go wander the halls for a little while before the feast? The train was a bit early, so we have time.”</p><p>Harry offered a sad smile and pulled his robes tighter over his shoulders, responding softly, his voice almost a whisper, “I’d love that, ‘Mione, thank you.”</p><p>Ron waved goodbye as he walked away, calling that he was going to go see if Dean was there yet. </p><p>Harry and Hermione walked silently through the halls, ignoring the stares of the portraits. Harry was blinking back tears the whole time, the dim hallways reminding him of all they had lost. “Harry, we should get going. The feast will start soon,” Hermione suggested, but Harry mumbled that he’d meet her there, and kept walking. </p><p>He had to get to the feast, though. People would notice that he wasn’t there.</p><p>“Come on, Harry, you can do this. Think of ‘Mione and Ron,” He whispered to himself, blinking back the tears that welled in the corners of his eyes. He took a deep, shaky breath and turned around, taking his time before he had to face the school.</p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>When Harry turned the corner to the Great Hall, he was met with a sight that he couldn’t comprehend. The Great Hall had been expanded, and the four house tables weren’t there anymore; instead, there was one huge table in the middle of the room. Harry wandered in, confused. Ron waved to him from one side of the table, Hermione to his left. Harry walked over there, seating himself in between Ron and Dean.</p><p>“What’s up with the table, mate?” Ron whispered, bouncing his knee.</p><p>“How the hell am I supposed to know?” Harry hissed as McGonagall walked towards the front of the Great Hall. Ron and Hermione exchanged a bewildered glance, but he didn’t care.</p><p>“Hello, students. I’m so glad to see you all back this year, and some new faces as well,” She smiled at the first years, who were gathered in a clump against the wall. “It is time to begin the Sorting.”</p><p>Harry zoned out during the Sorting, his eyes fixed on the back of his hand. He clenched and unclenched his fist, staring at the silvery letters carved into his skin. I must not tell lies. The sentence echoed in his head over and over, the words blurring together with each repetition. </p><p>Harry jumped when Ron nudged him, “Oi, mate, do you think McGonagall is gonna explain about the table?”</p><p>“Uh, I guess so,” Harry mumbled, fidgeting with the sleeve of his robe and pulling at a loose thread.</p><p>“Settle down, everyone. Now that everyone has been Sorted, “ she paused while a smattering of applause echoed through the hall, “I am sure that you’re all wondering why we have moved the tables. The other teachers and I have decided to make some changes. Everyone is still recovering from last year, and we believe that this is the best way to unite Hogwarts.”</p><p>“What’s the big news?!” A Gryffindor fourth year shouted from the other side of the table.</p><p>“I am getting there, Mr. Rosenthal. We have decided to integrate the houses more, which is why we will be changing dorm assignments for the foreseeable future.”</p><p>Various sounds of indignance and disbelief came from around the room, but Harry found that he didn’t particularly care. He and Ron hadn’t been spending as much time together, since Ron spent most of his time snogging Hermione, anyways.</p><p>Harry would get new roommates.</p><p>So what?</p><p>McGonagall finally got everyone to settle down and proceeded to explain how the new roommates would be chosen. Harry kept zoning out, but he caught the basic idea. They would use the Goblet of Fire, which would analyze them and figure out which other students would help them the most. </p><p>Harry would, of course, be in a dorm with those people, but they would also be in most of his classes. Classes would also consist of students from all houses. McGonagall waved her wand, and a slip of paper appeared in front of each person.</p><p>“You must deposit a drop of blood onto the parchment. If you don't know how to, ask an older student or a teacher for help.”</p><p>Harry silently pointed his wand at his index finger. He didn't wince when the spell broke through his skin, a small drop of red blood beading at the tip of his finger. Flipping his hand over, he touched his finger to the parchment. It absorbed the blood, the red swirling into letters. Harry Potter, Gryffindor. His skin prickled and the back of his hand stung, and he closed his eyes, breathing deeply.</p><p>An elbow poked his ribs, and he glared at Ron, rubbing his side, “What the hell, mate? What was that for?”</p><p>Ron’s face was twisted in confusion, and he was staring across the table. Harry followed his gaze to Malfoy, except…</p><p>Harry’s jaw dropped of its own accord, and he dropped his arm.</p><p>Malfoy was sitting alone, head bowed, and reading a book. That wasn’t the strange part, though. </p><p>Malfoy looked completely different.</p><p>His hair was longer, falling in his eyes, and the tips faded to a midnight blue. A pair of circular wire-framed glasses rested on the bridge of his nose, and his school robes were nowhere to be found. Instead, he wore an oversized gray jumper, the sleeves covering his hands so only the tips of his fingers poked out. His head snapped up from the book when his bookmark fluttered to the floor, and as he stood to retrieve it, Harry noticed that Malfoy was wearing distressed black jeans with rips crawling up his legs.</p><p>His legs were long and lean, the large rips exposing the pale, creamy skin on his thighs as he slid back into his seat, reopening his book and pushing his glasses up his nose. Harry averted his gaze, staring at the table.</p><p>Harry's heart was beating faster than normal.</p><p>It’s just because I hate him so much, Harry thought to himself. </p><p>Shortly after all of the students had finished, McGonagall flicked her wand over everyone, the shreds of parchment fluttering through the air and landing softly in a silver bowl placed on the end of the table. </p><p>Harry rested his chin on the palm of his hand, glancing away. His head snapped back as McGonagall cleared her throat, gesturing to the object next to her that hadn’t been there a second before. The Goblet rested on a pedestal, looking exactly as it had in Harry’s fourth year. McGonagall scooped up the bowl and poured the slips of parchment into the Goblet, which spit out colorful sparks. </p><p>The Goblet shivered, blue fire licking the edge of the glass. Five scraps of parchment flew out into the air, singed at the edges. McGonagall held out her hand and let the paper float into her open palm. She read out the names, and a few third years grinned excitedly at each other, one barely containing a squeal of excitement. </p><p>This process continued several times, but Harry zoned out, staring at a loose thread on his sleeve. He focused back on McGonagall when Ron’s name was called, along with Justin Finch-Fletchey, a Ravenclaws, another Gryffindor and a Slytherin with a wary expression, his eyes darting back and forth. Hermione was grouped with Padma Patil and a group of three Hufflepuff girls that looked slightly crestfallen, no doubt because of Hermione’s reputation for being a stickler for rules. Ginny and Luna smiled when their names were called consecutively, Luna leaning her head on Ginny’s shoulder. Ginny pressed a kiss to her forehead. Harry turned away, annoyed to see her happy for some reason. He supposed it was because she had been able to find happiness in all of the recent darkness and strife, and he had felt… detached, like a ghost, ever since the battle. </p><p>Series of names were called out, reactions of disappointment or excitement rippling through the room following each announcement. Harry stared at McGonagall, trying to focus, so he’d be paying attention when his name was called. He avoided zoning out for a couple of minutes, but eventually gave up and returned his attention to the loose thread on his sleeve. </p><p>“Harry Potter…” McGonagall’s voice rang out, and he snapped to attention, hitting his elbow on the edge of the table.</p><p>“... and Draco Malfoy.” She cleared her throat and dropped the scraps of paper, preparing to catch the next ones that floated out of the Goblet.</p><p>Harry’s face was numb.</p><p>Ron stared at him, an expression of horror on his face. Next to him, Hermione gazed at him with pity in her eyes, a sympathetic smile on her lips.</p><p>Malfoy didn’t even look up from his book, but Harry saw his hand twitch and his nose wrinkle the tiniest bit. Why was it just them? Normally, there were five people in a dorm room. Why would they be put together? A few people snuck glances at him, and Harry realized that he’d been staring at Malfoy. He averted his gaze, feeling his cheeks heat up at the attention.</p><p>McGonagall cleared her throat, “Students, I hope that you are all happy with your new dormitory assignments, and I am glad to see everyone back and ready to begin our new school year. For now, enjoy the feast!”</p><p>Food appeared on the table, the smell of buttery potatoes, roasted nuts, and baked chicken filling the air. A platter of rolls sat in front of Harry, and he grabbed one, taking a halfhearted bite.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. problematic arrangements</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>When Harry arrives at his dorm, he's hoping that Malfoy isn't there, but not only is he disappointed, there's another bad aspect of sharing a dorm with Malfoy that he hadn't anticipated.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this is sort of a short chapter, but the next one should be longer :) enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Once the feast was finally over, McGonagall passed out slips of parchment with a wave of her hand, the paper floating gently onto the table in front of him.</p><p>There was a tiny map on the parchment that detailed where his dormitory was, and instructions written next to it. Harry peered closer at the map and furrowed his brow in confusion. He didn’t recognize that wing of the castle. He and the other 8th years wandered down the halls to what turned out to be the 8th year dormitories. The door was activated by a torch on the stone wall. A Hufflepuff pulled the torch like a lever, and the wall flickered a couple of times before disappearing, leading to a large common room with a wide fireplace and a small fountain in one corner. Everyone wandered in, glancing around and exploring the new space. One by one, people disappeared up the stairs and into the hallways branching out from the common room. Harry sat in a plush armchair by the fireplace and waited, not wanting to be jostled around in the crowd of students. After a few minutes, he walked up the flight of stairs he had seen Malfoy walk up earlier, hoping that was the way to their dorm.</p><p>Harry wandered down the hallway at the top of the stairs. Muffled conversations came from the heavy wooden doors that lined the hall, along with laughs and screams of laughter. </p><p>His dormitory was the last door on the left, tucked into a poorly lit corner. The room next to it had the door cracked, and Harry thought he heard Ron talking. Harry knocked and walked in, but froze in his tracks.</p><p>Two figures were intertwined on one of the beds, hidden by shadow. They both yelped and pulled apart, and Harry blinked when he saw that it was Dean and Seamus, their cheeks flushed. The bedsheets were rumpled and Seamus had somehow, mysteriously, lost his shirt and tie.</p><p>“Hey, Harry,” Seamus said, holding back a smile. “Er… how was your summer?”</p><p>“I’m so sorry - I’ll go, sorry,” Harry backed out of the room slowly, “Uh, I thought Ron was in here.”</p><p>“Oh, yeah, he’s across the hall, mate,” Dean grinned, and Harry’s eyes snapped to a dark bruise on Seamus’ neck.</p><p>He mumbled a thank you and dashed outside, cheeks flaming.</p><p>Dean and Seamus?! Since when??! (since third year, Mr. Oblivious)</p><p> </p><p>Harry shook his head and turned the doorknob, hoping that Malfoy would have left already.</p><p>When he turned the doorknob, it seemed that Malfoy wasn’t there, as the lights were off.</p><p>The dorm was smaller than Dean and Seamus’ had been, since it would only be the two of them. Two four-poster beds were across the room from each other, heavy gray curtains drawn around both. Sturdy wooden trunks were at the ends of both beds, each with a large, thick blanket draped over it. Harry noticed a door in the far left corner and pushed the door open, revealing a spacious bathroom with a glass shower, a soaker tub, and a double vanity.</p><p>Wait.</p><p>A double vanity?</p><p>Harry rushed out of the room and whipped his head from side to side, searching for another bathroom, but there was none.</p><p>Shit.</p><p>He was going to have to-</p><p>“I suppose we’re sharing a bathroom, aren’t we, Potter?”</p><p>Harry spun around and found Malfoy stretched out on the bed closest to the bathroom, the heavy curtain now open. Malfoy’s hands were behind his head, and he had his foot propped up on his knee, a cocky expression on his face like he owned the place.</p><p>Asshole.</p><p>“I guess so,” Harry curled his lip, “Any idea why the hell we’re in here together? And why is it just us?”</p><p>“Why the bloody hell would I know? Maybe McGonagall wants to make us suffer,” he retorted, his hair falling in his eyes.</p><p>“That makes no sense, dumbass,” Harry snapped, trying not to think about how much better Malfoy’s hair looked, and how his sweater was riding up to show a sliver of his stomach,  “She didn’t choose the room assignments. The Goblet did.”</p><p>“Yeah, I fucking knew that, thanks,” Malfoy sneered, sitting up and bracing his clenched fists on the bed.</p><p>“Whatever. I’m getting out of here,” Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets and stalked out of the room, ignoring Malfoy’s scoff behind him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. library encounters</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>When Harry escapes from Ron and Hermione's PDA's at dinner and retreats to the library, he's not expecting to find Draco Malfoy in his favorite armchair.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>At dinner, Harry pushed food around his plate while Ron blabbered about some cool guy with long hair in his dorm whose older sister was the Keeper for the Chudley Cannons.</p><p>,</p><p>“Harry, Elias is so cool, I think you would like him! Seriously, mate,” Ron said, taking a sip of water.</p><p>“Uh oh,” Hermione teased, leaning toward him, “Do I have some competition, Ron?”</p><p>“No,” Ron affirmed, taking her face in his hands, “Never.”</p><p>Harry turned away, rolling his eyes as they kissed. He couldn’t get a fucking break from all of the mushy bullshit.</p><p>“I’m going to the library,” He said abruptly, standing up and snatching his bag from the floor. Ron and Hermione didn’t even break apart as he left. </p><p>Figures, he thought bitterly, shaking his head.</p><p>The heels of his shoes clicked against the stone floor on his way to the library, echoing through the hallway.</p><p>The library was empty, save for a Ravenclaw and a Hufflepuff making out in a corner, out of Madam Pince’s line of vision. Harry escaped to the other side of the library, where his favorite plush armchair was nestled in a corner, tucked away in between the end of a bookshelf and a stone column. As he turned the corner, though, he stopped in his tracks. Malfoy was curled up in Harry’s armchair, his knees tucked beneath him and a book in his lap.</p><p>Harry wheeled around and pretended to browse for a book, dragging his fingers over the spines of the books. </p><p>Malfoy glanced up when he heard Harry, and his calm expression morphed into one of annoyance. “What are you doing here, Potter?”</p><p>“Looking for a book, Malfoy,” Harry responded, injecting irritation into his tone and snatching a random book off of the shelf.</p><p>There was a pause, and Harry jumped when he heard Malfoy’s voice next to his ear. “Interesting reading choice, Potter.”</p><p>Harry wheeled around and pressed his back to the bookshelf, hugging the book to his chest. Malfoy stood in front of him, and Harry realized for the first time that Malfoy had gotten a bit taller over the summer. He was at least six inches taller than Harry, although his chunky black boots boosted his height a couple of inches.<br/>
Malfoy rested his hand next to Harry’s head and leaned in, glancing at the book. Harry exhaled shakily. Malfoy’s face was precariously close to his, and Harry stared at his long blond eyelashes.</p><p>“101 Practical Household Spells for the Common Witch. Is that really what you’re into these days?” Malfoy asked him, and Harry shivered as he felt Malfoy’s hot breath on his ear.</p><p>Harry could feel his cheeks heat up as he stammered a response, “Uh, no, not...really…”</p><p>“Stay there,” Malfoy instructed, walking away into a different section. </p><p>Harry relaxed, exhaling.</p><p> </p><p>“What is wrong with you?!” He scolded himself. Why the hell had his body reacted like that? He shook his head and took deep breaths to try and slow his heart rate</p><p>Why wasn’t Malfoy at dinner with everyone else?</p><p>Malfoy pressed a book into his hands. “Here. You’d like this book, Potter. Better than learning how to properly… clean floors and whatnot. Now, sod off. I was reading.”</p><p>Harry backed away and retreated to a table, pressing his hand to his chest and feeling his frantic heartbeat.</p><p>No one had ever recommended a book to him before. Strange that the first person to do so would be Malfoy. Harry flipped the book over and traced the title with one finger. </p><p>“The Blacksmith’s Tale,” he whispered, opening the book to the first page.</p><p>***</p><p>“Watch out, Harry!” Hermione exclaimed, grabbing Harry’s shoulders. He snapped his head up and jumped when he saw that he was about to run into a statue.</p><p>“Oh. Sorry, Mione.”</p><p>“What’s so interesting about that book, anyway?” She asked, pointing at the book Malfoy had given him. </p><p>“I don’t know. I like it. I’ve never read anything like it.” Harry had just started the book, but he was hooked. He’d gone back to the Great Hall and started reading, ignoring Ron and Hermione’s banter. Now, they were walking back to their dorms.</p><p>The book was about a blacksmith who used to be a prince, but he was accused of treason for something his younger brother did and was forced to flee the kingdom. Years later, his brother was king, and the blacksmith was running a successful business. An emissary from his brother’s kingdom arrived to place a large order of weapons, and the blacksmith had to hide his identity. Harry loved the author’s writing style, and he was excited to see where the story went.</p><p>“Where was it in the library? Did someone recommend it to you? It doesn’t really seem like something you’d read on your own…” Hermione battered him with questions.</p><p>Harry recalled Malfoy’s face inches away from his, his warm breath on Harry’s ear, and decided not to tell Hermione about that. </p><p>“Er…” He tried to think of an answer but was saved when a Ravenclaw first year ran up to them, clearly nervous. “Er, hello, Mr.- um, Harry, er… Professor McGonagall wants to see you. She’s in her classroom.”</p><p>“Thanks,” Harry responded, “I’ll head over there in a minute.”</p><p>He waved goodbye to Ron and Hermione and walked to the Transfiguration classroom, knocking on the doorframe before entering.</p><p>McGonagall looked up from her desk, “Oh, yes, Mr. Potter, come on in.”</p><p>“I wanted to ask if you were still interested in being Quidditch Captain this year, Mr. Potter. I had assumed so, but I wanted to ask if you would be up for it, nonetheless.”</p><p>Harry hadn’t even thought about it yet, but he knew, without a doubt, that his answer was yes. He couldn’t imagine Hogwarts without Quidditch. Often, during the summer, he had cast a Disillusionment Spell and gone flying. It had helped clear his thoughts and calm him down, and he sure as hell needed that this year.</p><p>“Yes, Professor, I’d still like to. When should I hold tryouts?”</p><p>“Anytime in the next two weeks, Mr. Potter. I am confident that we will have a marvelous Quidditch team this year, thanks to your efforts.” She smiled warmly. “You may go, Mr. Potter.”</p><p>Harry nodded and walked away, planning the tryouts in his head. He *had* to pick the perfect team members.</p><p>This would be the best team Hogwarts had ever seen. Hopefully.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you left a kudos/comment, it would really mean a lot :)</p><p>If you have any questions, comments, requests, or suggestions, my email is ambrosia.and.roses@gmail.com</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. quidditch tryouts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Harry hold Quidditch tryouts and finds himself an excellent Beater, but Harry can't seem to keep his eyes off his new team member.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Harry threw down his broom in frustration, throwing his head back and groaning. Ron put an arm around his shoulder. “Mate, it’ll be fine. There’s still a good amount of people left.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The last five people have been absolute shit! We’ve been holding tryouts all morning, and I haven’t found a single good player except for Dean. I’m glad we have you and Dean, because otherwise there’s no way we would even stand a chance against Slytherin.” Ginny had decided not to try out for the Quidditch team this year, electing on focusing on her schoolwork and Luna. Dean had flown well, and Harry had offered him the position of Chaser, which he’d accepted. Both Beater positions and two Chaser posts were still open, and he was hoping to find them today.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry ran a hand through his hair and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Next!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A tall eighth year flew down on his broom and screeched to a halt in front of Harry. “Morning, Captain.” He tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and put out a fist to Ron, “Weasley.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Elias!” Ron grinned, extending his own fist. “Good to see you, mate! Glad you’re trying out, aren’t we, Harry?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry stared. He had been expecting Elias to be some gangly, acne-covered boy, but he <em>definitely</em> wasn’t.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elias grinned lopsidedly at Harry and extended his hand, which Harry shook. His eyes traveled up Elias’ tanned, muscular arm and down his toned torso. He was wearing a thin white t-shirt and tight blue jeans under his robes that didn’t leave much to the imagination. His features weren’t bad either. Strands of his long brown hair fell out of his ponytail and framed his face. His warm brown eyes sparkled with excitement and his smile seemed genuine. Harry blinked when Ron elbowed him in the side and glanced meaningfully at Elias.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Right, the tryout! Sorry, Elias. My bad, mate. You’ll be trying out for Chaser?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Beater, actually. Have a bat I can use?” Elias flashed him a grin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry tossed him one and motioned for them to start flying. Him, Elias, Ron, and Dean all rose into the air. Dean and Ron each had a Bludger tucked under one arm, struggling to keep hold of them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elias sent the Bludgers flying, whacking each one with insane strength. He flew nimbly around the field, never missing a single hit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As a Bludger approached, Elias jumped off of his broom. Harry shouted, flying closer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What the bloody hell was he doing? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, Elias didn’t have a death wish. He looped his legs around the broom, hanging upside down, and swung his bat, sending the Bludger flying straight through the middle goal. Harry’s jaw dropped. He glanced at Ron, who grinned and shrugged. Elias grabbed his broom with one hand and swung one leg over, pulling himself back up. His white shirt was soaked with sweat, and Harry could see the contour of defined muscles on his stomach and his heaving chest. He looked away, fighting his urge to look Elias up and down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s enough,” Harry called, “We can go back down now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry’s shoes scuffed the sand as he landed, jumping off of his broom. He walked over to Elias, extending his hand. “Great playing, mate. Congratulations. You’re the best I’ve seen all day! Welcome to the team!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elias grinned and shook Harry’s hand. “Thank you, Captain.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, quit with the ‘Captain’. Too formal. Call me Harry.” </span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, Harry,” Elias smiled, pulling up the hem of his shirt to wipe off his forehead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry’s throat closed up at the sight of Elias’ defined stomach, glistening with sweat. His chest panged in disappointment when Elias dropped his shirt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m heading to the showers. Thanks, Captain. Er, Harry.” Elias waved goodbye and hopped on his broom, flying away towards the locker rooms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Why did Harry feel that way when he looked at Elias? Harry wasn’t...<em>gay</em>? He’d been into Ginny, and Cho. Sure, he hadn’t had as many crushes as the average teenage wizard, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was into guys.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It seemed like his own brain was laughing at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He remembered Cedric, his eyes shining in the sunlight during a Quidditch game, his dress robes flowing around his fit body during the Yule Ball. Harry had spent half of the Yule Ball staring at Cho and Cedric twirling and dancing in perfect sync. Harry had felt something when he looked at Cedric, but he had thought it was merely jealousy that knotted in the pit of his stomach.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He thought of Viktor Krum, his hair plastered to his head with sweat, his cheeks colored a rosy pink and his chest heaving after the first task. Harry recalled the time that he and Viktor had ended up at the Quidditch field at midnight the night before the third task, how they had played a game of Quidditch together, and how Harry had felt strangely nervous when they walked into the locker room. How Harry's heart had beat slightly quicker when Viktor had tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it on the ground,  abandoning his pants and boxers and stepping into the shower, the hot steam clouding the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And he thought of Elias, his muscled chest showing through his thin and transparent white shirt, his toned legs in his tight blue jeans.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fuck. What if Harry </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> gay?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was almost 6 pm by the time Harry had finally found two Chasers and another Beater. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His new Chasers were third years. They were twins, June and Oliver Ryland. Both were small and lean and could throw and catch the Quaffle with their eyes closed. His other Beater, David Cawthorn, was a fourth year, weedy and lanky, but he could hit a fly with a Bludger from across the field. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No one was left in the stands, thankfully, and Harry called goodbye to Ron and Dean, who were headed to their dorms to take a shower. Harry elected to shower in the locker rooms to avoid Malfoy and his smug face and blue hair as much as possible. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His toes kicked up sand as he landed outside of the locker room building, swinging his leg over his broom and holding it upright. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>********</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he walked in, the lights were on, and the sound of running water echoed from the showers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry leaned his broom against the wall next to the door and opened his locker with a flick of his wand, pulling off his gloves and boots and tossing them inside. He tugged off his clothes and tossed them inside of the washing cupboard. He’d never been any good at cleaning spells, and with the mess he made of his dorm every year, believe him, he’d tried to learn. Luckily, the washing cupboard washed and dried clothes in a matter of minutes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He swept his hair out of his eyes, wrapping a towel around his waist, his glasses still clutched in his hand. He normally set them on a bench just outside the shower.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He walked to the showers, relishing the warm air on his face. A boy was showering in the corner, but Harry could just barely make out his shape. He was an anonymous body, blurred at the edges. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The boy started walking toward him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry squinted, pushing his bangs out of his eyes with one hand and trying to make out who it was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Harry,” The boy said gently.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry’s heart jolted as he recognized the voice. Elias.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry I didn’t… recognize you. My glasses…” Harry trailed off, gesturing to his face. He tried to keep his breathing under control and his eyes on Elias’ face. Now that Elias was closer, Harry could make out his features better, and he didn’t want to risk a glance below Elias’s waist, even if he <em>was</em> wearing a towel.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry almost poked himself in the eye trying to shove his glasses on his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elias’s face came sharply into focus, and Harry's breath hitched. His wet hair stuck to his cheeks and clung to his neck. His long eyelashes were shiny with water, and his dark eyes gazed at Harry with an emotion he couldn't discern.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Er, what are you doing here?” Harry blurted, trying to calm his breathing and avoiding direct eye contact.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I went on a run and decided to shower. You?” Elias rubbed the back of his neck and Harry heart jumped as his chest muscles flexed</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um, tryouts just finished.” Harry said, trying not to stare at Elias, at the perfect arrangement of water droplets on his tanned skin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry noticed that Elias was very close to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span><em>Dangerously</em> close.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Here to shower, Captain?” Elias said in a near whisper, his warm breath on Harry's cheek.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry's breath hitched as Elias traced his jawline with one finger, sending chills all the way down to the tips of his toes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Want to join me?” Elias whispered against Harry's flushed mouth. One strong hand curled around Harry’s waist and pulled him in, and the other cupped his face and tilted his chin up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their lips melded together, Harry's eyes slid shut and he accidentally let out a soft moan, sliding his hands behind Elias’ neck.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elias tasted like honey, his lips like velvet and his breath warm. Harry's fingers wound into Elias’ wet hair, accidentally tugging as Elias slipped his tongue into Harry's mouth. Harry let out a shuddering gasp and pulled away, realizing what had just happened.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elias stopped, his face betraying his concern. “What is it? Are you alright”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry stared at Elias’ lips, blush lighting up his face. “You <em>kissed</em> me.” He said dumbly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah…” Elias furrowed his brow. “Should I not have?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry was suddenly aware of the fact that he and Elias were both wearing only a towel.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I've never kissed a guy before.” Harry blinked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elias started to respond, to apologize, but Harry shushed him, pressing a finger to his soft lips. He ran his other hand down Elias’ chest and down his stomach. “Don't apologize. I was just…surprised. That was...kissing girls never felt like that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I saw the way you looked at me during tryouts,” Elias murmured, his face close. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry smiled, whispering back, “Guess I'm not that sneaky, huh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not…in...the...<em>least</em>.” Elias’ hands gripped Harry's waist and pulled him in again, and Harry's hands found their way into Elias’ hair again. Elias’ tongue snaked back into Harry’s mouth, and Harry let out a moan, a chill running through his body.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elias picked him up, hooked his hands under Harry’s legs and pushed him against the wall. Harry's legs rested on Elias’ hips, and his arms on his shoulders. Harry let out a breathy gasp when Elias latched onto his neck, sucking and biting until a dark hickey stood out against his skin. Harry's fingers scrabbled against the back of Elias' neck. He felt utterly powerless, completely vulnerable and ready to do anything Elias asked him to. He was putty in Elias ' rough but gentle hands.</span>
  <span></span><br/>
<span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He felt like he could fly away.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>so yes, i know this isn't drarry, but i wanted harry to come to terms with his sexuality a bit before the main pairing :))</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. behind the curtain</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>As usual, Malfoy has decided to be a complete and utter ass, but a knock on the door might fix Harry's night.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Harry closed the door behind him and walked into the 8th year common room. Hermione and Ron were sitting at a table, arguing about something over a game of chess. As Harry neared, he could hear their conversation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Look, all I’m saying is that maybe you shouldn’t move your bishop there!” Ron said defensively, throwing his hands up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know what you’re doing, Ronald. You’re trying to fake me out! I read about this strategy in Alan Worchester’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>Advanced Wizards Chess Techniques!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Hermione protested, moving her bishop anyways. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ron sighed, moving his knight and capturing an unprotected rook. “Checkmate.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione groaned and ran her hands through her hair, dropping her head on the table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Looks like you two are having a </span>
  <em>
    <span>great</span>
  </em>
  <span> time!” Harry said teasingly, sliding into a chair. A smile was creeping at the corners of his mouth, and had been ever since he kissed Elias goodbye outside of the locker rooms before flying back to the castle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Harry! Where were you, you missed dinner!” Hermione asked, beginning to clean up the chess pieces, fixing the broken pieces with Reparo spells.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Er, I lost track of time… taking a shower. It’s fine, I’m not really hungry,” Harry lied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, Ron said Quidditch tryouts were a success! When’s the first practice going to be?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not really sure. Sometime this week for sure.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ron yawned exaggeratedly, resting his chin on his hand. “I’m surprised how fast you pulled those tryouts together, mate.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I want to work hard this year. I miss Quidditch, and this school could use a sense of normalcy after last year. I doubt there were too many Quidditch matches in between torture sessions with the Carrows,” Harry quipped.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione made a noise in the back of her throat and glanced away. Ron raised an eyebrow and looked at Harry quizzically. Harry shrugged. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You really shouldn’t joke about that, Harry,” Hermione said, grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. “Anyways, I’m going upstairs. Classes start tomorrow.” She kissed Ron on the cheek and left.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe it’s just my way of coping.” Harry said, only half-joking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think I’m going to bed. I didn’t sleep well last night. Being here… reminded me of him.” Ron gave a small smile and walked away. Harry sighed, slumping in his chair. He couldn’t avoid Malfoy forever. Last night, he’d gone to practice Quidditch until midnight, and Malfoy had been asleep by the time Harry got back. He definitely wasn’t asleep now, as it was barely past eight, and Harry would have to deal with him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door of his dorm creaked as he walked in. Malfoy sat cross-legged on the bed, sketching something in a notebook. He glanced up when Harry walked in. “Potter.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Malfoy.” Harry said, shutting the door behind him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry wandered over to the bathroom, switching on the light. It was a nice bathroom. The double vanities were spotless, and it seemed that Malfoy had claimed the left side, as various jars and bottles were on the counter. Harry picked one up and read the label. Some kind of fancy face cream. One was some kind of face wash with aloe in it. And whatever </span>
  <em>
    <span>toner</span>
  </em>
  <span> was, it didn't sound like something that should go on someone's face. Harry walked back out to grab pajamas from his trunk. Malfoy ignored him, focused on whatever he was drawing, which Harry was fine with. The less interactions with Malfoy, the better.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Back in the bathroom, he tugged on an oversized shirt and a pair of baggy pajama pants, cleaning his glasses on his shirt and tugging on a pair of plush socks. He went through his routine mindlessly, brushed his teeth, flossed, and washed his face. Afterwards, he walked back to his bed, digging The Blacksmith’s Tale out of his bag and laying on his stomach. He opened the book and began to read, but the scratching of Malfoy’s pencil ground on his nerves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Even so, he didn't want to comment, so he pushed through it, trying to ignore Malfoy. He managed to concentrate for a while, and slowly immersed himself in the story. He lost track of how long he'd been reading when the book Malfoy had been writing in clattered to the floor. Harry's head snapped up and, just before Malfoy picked up the notebook, he caught a glance of a page of drawings. All he could tell from them was that the person had dark hair. Malfoy snatched the notebook off of the ground and slammed it shut, his cheeks obviously flushed. “What are you looking at, Potter? Fuck off.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry returned to his book, holding up a middle finger. Malfoy stood up abruptly, shoulders tense, and announced, "I'm going to go shower now."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t drown.” Harry replied sarcastically as Malfoy dug some clothes out of his trunk and stalked to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him and yelling, "Don't wait up, Potter!"</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Harry flipped off the closed door, slamming his book shut in frustration. There was no way he'd be able to focus now. He dropped his head back onto the pillow and sighed. How the hell was he going to survive a whole year with </span>
  <em>
    <span>Malfoy</span>
  </em>
  <span> as his roommate? There was no way this was going to go well at all. Not if they couldn’t go even a day without yelling at each other, flipping each other off, and slamming doors. Harry just wanted to get through this year with as little conflict as possible. He was tired of fighting, tired of battling with everyone, including himself. He needed a break. Ron and Hermione didn’t really help anymore. They were too focused on schoolwork, or Quidditch, or snogging in a corner. He needed a friend. Someone to confide in that wouldn’t judge him for all of his problems, all of his trauma. Someone that he could trust, and someone that felt easy to be around. He missed when that used to be Ron.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Three soft knocks at the door jerked him out of his thoughts. Speak of the devil. It was probably Ron. He slid out of bed and opened the door, about to tell Ron he was tired and that he’d talk to him tomorrow, but instead of Ron’s face greeting him when the door opened the door, it was Elias, hair tied up and a large Quidditch shirt hanging off of his shoulders. He wore baggy pajama pants like Harry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Elias!” Harry said, surprised. He tugged at his shirt self-consciously. “Um, want to… come in?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” Elias smiled, stepping through the doorway and glancing around. “Er, where’s your roomie? You only got one, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, uh, he’s in the shower. He screamed at me not to wait up for him, so that probably means he’ll be in there a while. Or something.” Harry laughed nervously, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who is he?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Harry snorted, “Draco Malfoy. I think the universe has a grudge against me or something, because he’s literally the person who hates me the most in this entire school. I don’t know why the hell the Goblet would put us together, but hey,” he shrugged, “It is what it is, I guess.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure. That’s a good way to look at life. Can’t change anything, so it’s better to just accept it and try to make the best of it.” Elias ran his hand through his hair. “Anyways, the guys in my dorm wouldn’t shut up, so here I am. Thought I’d come see you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh?” Harry stepped closer, glancing up at Elias with flushed cheeks. “What for?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elias took a step forward and leaned down to whisper huskily in Harry’s ear, “I thought we could continue what we started earlier.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmm,” Harry murmured, running his hands up Elias’ chest. “You have very good ideas. </span>
  <em>
    <span>And</span>
  </em>
  <span> you’re good at Quidditch.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are those my only appeals?” Elias ran a thumb over Harry’s bottom lip.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry grinned, “Well, you’re not too bad to look at…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh?” Elias whispered, “Is that so?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry closed his eyes as Elias’ face moved closer. “Yeah…” he whispered against Elias’ mouth, just before their lips met. Elias’ breath hitched as Harry’s hands snaked under his shirt, running up his muscular back. He grabbed the front of Harry’s shirt and walked forwards, shoving Harry against the wall with a groan. Harry angled his face higher and rose on his tiptoes, pulling Elias’ shirt over his head, breaking their kiss only for a second before Elias pulled him back in and picked him up, hands hooked under Harry’s legs. Carrying Harry to the bed, he set him down and pushed him onto his back. Elias clambered on top of him and kissed him, his tongue dancing inside of Harry’s mouth. Harry wrapped his legs around Elias’ waist and pulled him closer, sliding a hand behind his neck. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elias pulled away for just a second. “Wait, Harry, how long will your roommate be in there?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wriggling out from under Elias, Harry reached and grabbed his wand off of his nightstand, spelling the curtains around his bed shut and sealing them with a Silencing charm. “There. He’ll think I’m asleep. He doesn’t really have a desperate desire to talk to me.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Elias chuckled, drawing Harry in and nibbling at his ear. He trailed kisses down Harry’s neck, his hands tugging Harry’s shirt off in the process. Harry tensed for a moment before reminding himself that Elias had already seen him shirtless. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His soft hands roamed over Harry’s chest as he bit and sucked just above Harry’s collarbone, and Harry let out a choked noise of surprise before groaning softly through gritted teeth. Elias chuckled softly and continued kissing down Harry’s torso, stopping when he reached the waistband of Harry’s pajama pants. He left another hickey just above Harry’s hipbone, then rested his hand on Harry’s stomach.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This ok?,” He murmured, hooking one finger under Harry’s waistband. A nervous feeling sprouted up from Harry’s stomach, and he hesitated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I...I don’t know,” He breathed. “Can we just...just kiss for a while? It’s just...this is...is all kind of- kind of new to me… The...sex part and the gay part, I mean… and we’re going kind of fast...”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elias smiled softly and removed his finger from under Harry’s waistband. “Sure. Whatever you want, Harry. That’s why I asked,” he whispered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry sighed in relief and offered a small smile as thanks. Elias scooted up to the pillows and sat against them, beckoning to Harry. “C’mere.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry climbed into Elias’ lap, facing him and putting his arms on Elias’ shoulders. Elias kissed him, but it felt different, not frantic and sexual like before, but softer, and slow, like he was savoring every second their lips were together. Harry relaxed gradually, and they settled into a comfortable rhythm, with one of Elias’ hands on Harry’s hip and the other cupping his cheek. At some point, Harry’s nimble fingers tugged the hair tie out of Elias’ hair, sliding a hand into the soft strands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Potter, wake the fuck up!” A frantic yell came from outside, “What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> did you do with my-” All of a sudden, the curtain was swept open and light flooded the bed. They both jumped apart, and to Harry’s surprise, Draco stood next to the bed, his mouth open.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...sketchbook,” he finished, eyes darting between Harry and Elias. His gaze lingered on the hickey on Harry’s collarbone before he promptly looked away. “Never mind,” he choked out, letting go of the curtain and practically sprinting away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry let out a shaky breath. “Fuck, sorry about that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elias ran a hand through his hair. “Er, maybe I should go… So you can talk to him…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, good idea…” Harry dropped his face in his hands. “See you tomorrow, then.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elias nodded and picked his shirt up off of the floor, tugging it over his head as he closed the door quietly behind him. Harry cleared his throat. His fingers brushed over the hickey on his hip, and he stared at it. He’d never gotten a hickey before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A crash came from the other side of the curtain, along with a string of curses. Harry sighed and pulled his shirt back on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>How the fuck was he going to explain this to Malfoy?</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. breakfast worries</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>As it turned out, Harry hadn’t had to explain anything at all. After he’d taken a minute to gather himself, he’d knocked on the door to the bathroom, where Malfoy had fled. He’d called through the door, “Malfoy? Can I come in? I need to explain, I-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Malfoy had cut him off, swinging the door open and stopping him with one hand and a stern expression. “You don’t need to explain anything. I don’t care who you’re snogging, even if it’s that prat. I don’t wanna hear it, and I’m sure you don’t feel like telling me about it. So, if you please, I think I’ll go to sleep.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry’s words had stuck in his throat, and he’d nodded and turned around, collapsing on his bed and drawing the curtains shut.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He drifted off to sleep, one arm tucked under his head and the other tracing circles on his hip, just over the hickey.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>******</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, guys. Morning,” Harry greeted, sliding into his seat next to Hermione. Ron sat across from her, and Elias was perched on the table next to Ron, facing the other direction and talking to another eighth year. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ron took a bite of toast, and mumbled a reply. Before Harry could get any food, Ron’s eyes widened and he gagged on his toast, coughing and spewing crumbs all over the table. “Mate,” he choked out, “what is </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” He pointed at Harry’s neck. His hand flew to the bruise on his neck, covering it. He had totally forgotten.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Shit.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uhhh, it’s nothing,” He deflected, flipping his collar to hide it. “When do we get our schedules?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Harry! Is that…? No way!” Hermione moved his collar out of the way and glanced back at Ron, who broke into a grin. “Damn, Harry! We’ve been here two days and you’ve already gotten some action. Who’s the lucky girl?” He held out his hand for a high five.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry ignored him and pushed his glasses up, sneaking a glance at Elias. “It’s not what you think, Ron,” he mumbled, grabbing a piece of toast. “Have we gotten our schedules yet?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ron shared a glance with Hermione and shrugged. “Uh, no, not yet. McGonagall’s supposed to make some announcements or something and then give them out. We’re probably not going to have many classes together, since they’re doing them by dorm… maybe since we’re in the same hallway, we’ll have some classes together. I don’t know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Harry mumbled, distractedly chewing on his toast. His attention had shifted to Malfoy, who had just walked in. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>technically</span>
  </em>
  <span> wearing the uniform, but his father would </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>not approve of the way he was dressed. He had on the uniform pants and shirt, but he also had an oversized corduroy button up on top. Green, of course. He’d rolled up the sleeves to his elbows, and he wore a black beanie and his glasses along with a pair of chunky black boots that looked similar to the boots Sirius used to wear all the time, before-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nope, nope, no. Harry had decided a long time ago that he couldn’t, </span>
  <em>
    <span>wouldn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>, let his mind go there. He had to keep his thoughts as light as he could. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Malfoy shot Harry a glare and sat down, far away from anyone else. Harry averted his gaze and stared at his toast. At least his toast wasn’t rude, though not as well dressed as Malfoy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as McGonagall got there, they would get their schedules. Eighth years didn’t have to take as many classes, since they already knew what they wanted to study. Because of that, Harry had less classes and more free periods, which he guessed was something. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tonight was their first Quidditch practice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He just had to make it to tonight.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thanks for reading!! i haven't posted in a while, but this chapter is pretty short. sorry ab that :(</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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